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Old 04-02-2013, 11:28 PM   #7476
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Bourbon. Neat. A lot of it. It's the only thing that dulls the pain nowadays.
Maker's Mark? Elijah Craig? Eagle's Rare? Jim Beam? Woodford Reserve? What's your poison?
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:36 PM   #7477
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Maker's Mark? Elijah Craig? Eagle's Rare? Jim Beam? Woodford Reserve? What's your poison?
Something good. And full. Cause I'm going to change that.
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:39 PM   #7478
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Dave! (((boobiesquishinghugs!!)))

Ella and RA and TongueLust too! ((((boobiesquishinghugs)))) all around!
 

Old 04-02-2013, 11:41 PM   #7479
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Dave! (((boobiesquishinghugs!!)))

Careful. Things are fragile, perhaps too fragile to withstand a vigorous hug. But thank you.
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:44 PM   #7480
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Careful. Things are fragile, perhaps too fragile to withstand a vigorous hug. But thank you.
Whoopsie! Sowwy.

(((gentile, not so boobies squishing, hugs)))

Better?
 

Old 04-02-2013, 11:44 PM   #7481
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Something good. And full. Cause I'm going to change that.
Hmmm....Think I'm going for the Woodford Reserve. I like the bottle.

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Dave! (((boobiesquishinghugs!!)))

Ella and RA and TongueLust too! ((((boobiesquishinghugs)))) all around!
Hey, sexy mama!!! I'll (((boobiesquishinghuggle))) you back!!!
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:46 PM   #7482
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Whoopsie! Sowwy.

(((gentile, not so boobies squishing, hugs)))

Better?
Yes. And thanks. You're very warm. That is nice. Been difficult to keep warm lately. Shivering all the time, sneezing, coughing, sleeping in cold places...
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:47 PM   #7483
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Hey, sexy mama!!! I'll (((boobiesquishinghuggle))) you back!!!
It appears that you ladies have been taking care of yourselves. I'm impressed. Whatever you're doing for exercise is working.
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Old 04-02-2013, 11:53 PM   #7484
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[color="Magenta"]Hey, sexy mama!!! I'll (((boobiesquishinghuggle))) you back!!!
Woot!!

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Yes. And thanks. You're very warm. That is nice. Been difficult to keep warm lately. Shivering all the time, sneezing, coughing, sleeping in cold places...
Awww... Wanna cuddle under a blankie?

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It appears that you ladies have been taking care of yourselves. I'm impressed. Whatever you're doing for exercise is working.
It's that trampoline in the back room. Lots of nakkie jumping. lol
 

Old 04-02-2013, 11:58 PM   #7485
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Awww... Wanna cuddle under a blankie?
I would. Just understand that I'm likely to jerk around a lot in my sleep and who knows what else? You may not get much sleep.

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It's that trampoline in the back room. Lots of nakkie jumping. lol
That must be a sight.
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Old 04-03-2013, 10:49 AM   #7486
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I wake in darkness. Someone, or several someones, must have put me to bed. I'm covered well in heavy blankets; I must have been shivering again. The stillness and security of my resting place are unfamiliar to me. So different from what I've been through, the places where I've slept. And the most pleasant surprise...that I don't smell them. Their stink or the rotting smell they make once they are finally killed, is not apparent in the fresh air of the room I am in. It became so pervasive that I thought I would breathe that stench for the rest of my life.

The other nice part of being indoors and safe, is that I don't hear them. Their moaning and caterwauling at all hours, from all directions, never becomes commonplace. The sounds they make as they shamble are a warning to the living; the groans coming from their vacant faces are almost a plea for those still alive to end the misery. Swiftly, silently, put them down. A shot from a firearm is a last resort; it will only attract more.

So here in this room--is it my room? Do I even have a room here anymore?--I lie and stare at the blackness and wonder, am I safe? Is there an icy hand about to reach out and grab for my throat before taking bites out of my neck and shoulders? Is there a horde just beyond the door, waiting for any sound to become suddenly active, clawing at the door in their ever-present need to eat flesh?

I reach for the blade that has been constantly with me for all the time I was gone. It is not there; in fact, the sheath is gone. I seem to be stripped to my underwear. A clean t-shirt and boxers; I didn't wear those in here. I know that. Someone has cleaned me up, dressed me, and put me to bed. I reach around, suddenly fearful that I am unarmed and defenseless. My hand bumps something. Perhaps it is a bedside table. I feel, moving my fingers lightly across its surface, finding corners and odd objects in the dark. My hand lights on cold steel. I lift it carefully; it's clearly a firearm. A few more gentle inquisitive movements of my fingers and I ascertain that it is a Glock. Ahhh, my favorite. The ladies remembered. Let's see if the skills are still there.

Yes, it's a fullsize model but not the larger 10mm or 45, hard to tell the exact caliber though. From the grooves for your fingers in the front of the grip, it is clearly a third generation model. So, it must be a Model 17 in 9mm, Model 22 in 40 Smith & Wesson, or a Model 31 chambered in 357 Sig. My fingers touch something that gives away exactly what it must be. Along the upper slide on the left rear is a circular selector switch. Only one Glock has this. It is a Model 18, chambered in 9mm. This is the fully automatic version of the ubiquitous Glocks that regular civilians could own. A machine pistol required all sorts of different licenses and permissions from our former government. This pistol, when loaded with a 33 round magazine, literally could fire them all in 1.8 seconds. A fearsome weapon, difficult to aim like all machine pistols, and one that was very heavily regulated to keep it out of the hands of criminals. "Thank goodness criminals don't break firearms laws," I think.

But now, aware of my surroundings a little more; that I am clean, clothed, and armed, I lie back and attempt to sleep again, secure in the knowledge that the ladies are on top of things. That despite my infirmities, I will be safe. That perhaps they can nurse me back to health. Or what passes for it anyway. The itch in the damaged leg is persistent. One would usually say that that is evidence of it healing. It has been too long. I'm not sure if it's going to heal at all. That ship may have sailed.

Darkness envelopes me and I sink into its caress. Alone in the dark, I dream of sinking further and further into an inky black hole. Horrors that these ladies should never have to experience paw at me with grubby hands, sounds made by unearthly voices whisper and implore me to join them in their hell. The hole is endless; I fall forever. I am swallowed up and rushing toward a fate that I cannot imagine. Tumbling, turning, falling...there is no end. Please end this...
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Old 04-03-2013, 01:36 PM   #7487
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I eye him quietly at first from the doorway, concern etched in my features. My feet move quietly, though not silently through the room and to the foot of the bed. Soft ringing from the bell on my collar breaks the somber stillness, and with a quick smile I think to myself that I hope his sleeping mind is alert enough to register the sounds. He's a man of instinct, and I don't need a bullet in my head because I've startled him from his nightmares....

I take breath and curl up at the foot of the bed, moving slowly and gently, being careful of the injuries I know are there. With on hand resting against his covered leg, I sigh and close my eyes, hoping there is some comfort for him.
 

Old 04-03-2013, 01:39 PM   #7488
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Finally, I wake up and there is light, just enough to see, that yes, this is my room. And a surprise; a sleeping kitten at the foot of the bed. "Darling Girl," I whisper as I look around the room, careful not to disturb her dreams.

The room is immaculately clean, not disheveled the way I left it after my hasty departure. The method in which I left--and the speed--surely alarmed some, but it had to be done. The furniture is arranged again, the pictures are hanging straight, and it smells fresh and clean. Someone has been hoping I'd come back. Sweet.


I move to get out of the big bed and the pain in my leg reminds me to move gingerly. Placing weight on that leg carefully, it pops and strains to hold what's left of me up. I take a few steps to test how sturdy I might be. Seems ok.

A secret compartment opens easily after a combination of movements that pop the hidden door from its hiding place. Undisturbed, I see everything inside the safe exactly as I left it. Reaching way back into it, I remove my favorite rifle and two magazines of ammunition. The weapon is lightweight, made of polymers mostly, and a well balanced piece.

I move on steadying legs to find my clothes. Fresh pants, a clean shirt, and my boots are all put on in order and I am ready to go for a walk. Out of the room, down the hall, past WhipLuvr's room (Is she in there?), towards the motor pool where I find that two trucks and one tank are missing. Is she out on patrol? Or...gone?

Back through the living quarters. Rooms for Ella, TL, RA, Max, Dopple, and Playful...down another long corridor are rooms where the others have stayed...are they here? Out? Are they...alive?

Into the kitchen and sure enough, there are fresh muffins on a countertop. I take one, and continue down the long hallway to the main door. Looking up at the monitor, I see no threats. Back down the hall, through the common areas, up the stairs, open the hatch, and climb out onto the expansive deck overlooking all the fields for hundreds of yards. One or two walkers stumble aimlessly through the fields, unaware, unknowing how little time they have left.

I aim the rifle and look through the scope. One is a young woman, perhaps twenty years old when she died, and the other is a fat middle aged man. She's wearing a bikini. He's got what's left of a pair of jeans on him and a ragged t-shirt that says, "Public Enemy."

Two quick rounds and both are dead and doing their last part for what's left of humanity; fertilizing my fields. I put the rifle back on safe and hold it level across my chest. So much killing, so much fighting, so much pain. Why has this happened? I look around again and my reverie is broken by the realization that the bunker's upper observation deck has been turned into a sundeck for the ladies. There are beach chairs everywhere. And more than a few bottles of suntan lotions arranged neatly in along the wall. I laugh at the ingenuity of these women. Life goes on, huh? Get busy living or get busy dying.

I'm glad they chose living.
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Last edited by Chaingun : 04-03-2013 at 01:42 PM.
 

Old 04-03-2013, 10:13 PM   #7489
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There's a half moon in a semi-cloudy sky. A cool spring breeze blows through crops that are growing so fast you can almost hear them. The fields are surprisingly free of walkers and even the livestock is quiet.

The motor pool is filled with vehicles. Some are new to me; it appears Whip has brought in some new rolling stock. There are even a couple of KTM off road motorcycles.

The sub basement where the fuel is stored emanates with a low hum as the generators flawlessly produce a reliable source of energy that keeps food cold, makes ice, heats water for the showers, turns on the lights, powers the radio, and charges batteries.

In the kitchen area, delicious smells of fresh food waft from the oven, fruit from our orchards is in neatly arranged baskets, and there is newly baked bread in a plastic bag next to the refrigerator. There's butter, milk, and almost all the comforts of our former life.

The hallways seem clear. Dust free. Even the mess that was getting piled in front of Whip's door is gone. I really hope that that was not a practical joke that someone was playing on her.

Ammunition is stored neatly in the bunker's armory. Arranged by caliber and stacked so high, I wonder if someone's been going crazy either scavenging everything they can find or actually reloading. There are well oiled AR and AK style rifles stacked neatly, ready for action with loaded magazines nearby.

Things are quiet. Very quiet. Orderly and clean. I keep walking and a faint sound hits my ears. I climb up some stairs and the noise gets louder. There's a rhythmic beat that bumps and thumps and gets louder the closer I get to it. I can actually feel it more than hear it, but that is changing.

Down a long hallway, I move towards the light and the sound. And arriving at the common area, I see a stocked bar, hear loud dance music, and people having fun.

I'm home.
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Old 04-03-2013, 10:30 PM   #7490
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I wave from my usual seat on the floor, leaned against the side of a chair tucked against one wall. "Hi Dave!" I know he probably can't hear me, but it doesn't really matter.

I like this spot, it keeps me out of the way of moving and often tipsy bodies, but still allows me to keep an eye on the whole room. I wrap my arms around the frilly pillow in my lap and rest my chin on top of it, smiling, bobbing slightly in time to the music.
 

Old 04-03-2013, 11:18 PM   #7491
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Walking over to Playful, I squat down next to her and look into her big, wonder-filled eyes. She's a doll and wouldn't understand what has happened. Like so many other things, I will shelter her from what I know.

I tentatively reach out and caress her cheek. My hand moves up to scratch her left ear and her eyes soften...maybe even water up a little bit...and she gives me a happy smile. I pet her pretty hair from her forehead down to her neck and say, "Good Girl. I missed you."

I stand back up; the leg can't support me comfortably in this condition. Even before, the knees would have been screaming from squatting like a baseball catcher. But they're the least of my issues right now. The throbbing in my leg is threatening to make me black out. With a mighty effort, I stand again and catch myself from wobbling by grabbing the edge of a nearby couch.

I move towards the bar and not recognizing the woman behind it, I smile and move past the end. I grab the nearest bottle of Jim Beam and return to the couch. I watch people dancing and begin sipping the bourbon. I'm going to need a lot of this to get rid of that dull ache. I'm going to need a second bottle to squelch a memory.
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Old 04-04-2013, 12:43 PM   #7492
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Really bad....I'm so sorry I couldn't help it...


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“No, please..,” Moira whispered. She barely recognized her own voice and even she wasn’t convinced she wanted this to stop. Her face felt flush and her body feverish from the fire he’d ignited. She opened her eyes and groaned when she saw her own hands pressed to the back of this man’s head holding him in place."


 

Old 04-04-2013, 01:28 PM   #7493
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Really bad....I'm so sorry I couldn't help it...


That actually works out nicely since I feel like a sloth right now.
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Old 04-04-2013, 01:34 PM   #7494
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That actually works out nicely since I feel like a sloth right now.
That just means you can't get away if something is stalking you from the tall grasses, ready to pounce.

...er..... never mind.....

*whistles innocently*
 

Old 04-04-2013, 03:14 PM   #7495
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That just means you can't get away if something is stalking you from the tall grasses, ready to pounce.

...er..... never mind.....

*whistles innocently*

I have no defenses left. If you're going to stalk and pounce, end it quickly.
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Old 04-04-2013, 03:28 PM   #7496
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I have no defenses left. If you're going to stalk and pounce, end it quickly.
Ohh noooo, dear. I need to drag you back to the pride to share with the other lionesses you know.
 

Old 04-04-2013, 04:19 PM   #7497
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Ohh noooo, dear. I need to drag you back to the pride to share with the other lionesses you know.
I'm not sure I can still take on all the other lionesses, you know?

I need a drink. I need the whole pitcher.

"Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed art though amongst cocktails. Pray for me at the hour of my death, which I hope is very soon."

:hiccup:
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Old 04-04-2013, 04:25 PM   #7498
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I'm not sure I can still take on all the other lionesses, you know?

I need a drink. I need the whole pitcher.

"Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed art though amongst cocktails. Pray for me at the hour of my death, which I hope is very soon."

:hiccup:
*clucks tongue* oh shoosh.

*begins to shoo you back to bed* more rest!
 

Old 04-04-2013, 04:26 PM   #7499
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I'm not sure I can still take on all the other lionesses, you know?

I need a drink. I need the whole pitcher.

"Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed art though amongst cocktails. Pray for me at the hour of my death, which I hope is very soon."

:hiccup:


Oh Good LORD...

*smacks Dave around a bit*

Put DOWN the bottle and come here....

NOW...

Lay your head upon my breast and close your eyes. Would you like me to tell you the story about the "Three Little Pigs" or "Little Red Riding Hood?"

I've also got a little ditty about a Buxom Sex Goddess who came very close to flying completely over the cuckoo's nest and started posting all sorts of naughty stuff on the interwebs...But you might not need to hear all that since crazy doesn't really help crazy very much, huh?
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I feel a sin coming on...

“No, please..,” Moira whispered. She barely recognized her own voice and even she wasn’t convinced she wanted this to stop. Her face felt flush and her body feverish from the fire he’d ignited. She opened her eyes and groaned when she saw her own hands pressed to the back of this man’s head holding him in place."


 

Old 04-04-2013, 04:33 PM   #7500
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Oh Good LORD...

*smacks Dave around a bit*

Put DOWN the bottle and come here....

NOW...

Lay your head upon my breast and close your eyes. Would you like me to tell you the story about the "Three Little Pigs" or "Little Red Riding Hood?"

I've also got a little ditty about a Buxom Sex Goddess who came very close to flying completely over the cuckoo's nest and started posting all sorts of naughty stuff on the interwebs...But you might not need to hear all that since crazy doesn't really help crazy very much, huh?
(*snort* I you, woman.)
 
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